


My Cas Collection

by Shaleschnueffler



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Accidents, Arguing, Awkwardness, Bad Pick-Up Lines, Bees, Cas fucks it up, Castiel Is So Done, Castiel in the Men of Letters Bunker (Supernatural), Castiel is a Little Shit, Chases, Childishness, Dean Winchester Teaches Castiel, Dean Winchester is Bad at Feelings, Dean Winchester is So Done, Demonic Possession, Demons, False Identity, Gen, Guns, I Love Castiel, Implied Castiel/Dean Winchester, Implied Sabriel, M/M, Minor Castiel/Dean Winchester, Miscommunication, Multi, One Shot, One Shot Collection, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Personal Space, Random & Short, Randomness, Sam Winchester is So Done, Sarcasm, Socially Awkward Castiel (Supernatural), Spells & Enchantments, Trenchcoats, What Was I Thinking?, maybe? - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-01
Updated: 2019-02-20
Packaged: 2019-08-08 08:14:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 14,865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16425716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shaleschnueffler/pseuds/Shaleschnueffler
Summary: One day, I sat with my friend and we began to talk about Cas. What started out as a casual conversation about Castiel's badassery soon turned into a shit talk. I cried from laughing too hard. We met again. And again.This is what happened.Sometimes serious, sometimes trashy - a collection of short drabbles and one-shots mainly revolving around Castiel trying to get along in the human world, featuring the Winchesters, some horrible pick-up lines, Castiel's trenchcoat and frowns. A lot of frowns.Updated irregularly.





	1. i put the i in lie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We've seen this in the series before but: Cas on a case. Cas with a fake ID. Sam wants to stab him to death.
> 
> Chapter title: The "I" In Lie - Patrick Stump

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One of the more normal ideas that we/I came up with. A lot of trash and randomness will follow soon, don't worry.

\- "Okay, Cas. We've been over this. We go in there, you leave the talking to me and just take out your badge when somebody asks for it. Got it?"  
  
When Castiel responded with a clipped "Yes", Sam sighed, not _anything_ near content with that answer, but he decided not to press the topic anymore. Dean had informed him about the first - and last - time he had tried to investigate on a case together with Cas, and Sam was kind of hopeful that the angel had maybe, _just maybe_ , learned _something_ from that disaster.  
  
He could only trust Castiel enough to hold his badge the right way around this time, although Sam had the misgiving that he probably shouldn't get his hopes up too much.  
  
Casting Cas another threatening glance, he pushed the door to the clinic open and stepped inside, straightening his hair and smoothing down his black jacket one more time.  
  
It was their typical FBI-agent-style. White button-down, cheap black pants and jacket, and of course, a whole ton of hair gel.  
  
Well. It was _their_ style. Not Castiel's, though.  
  
Looking over at the angel, the hunter couldn't help but exhale loudly at the sight: No matter what they had told him, Cas just hadn't wanted to swap his beloved trenchcoat for a suit. Thinking about it, Sam didn't even know why exactly they hadn't managed to force him into the clothes they had acquired together with the false badge, considering that Cas hadn't even stated a single viable argument in the discussion.  
  
But here they were, a reputable and respectable tall man with neat clothes and a professional look on the kind face; accompanied by a guy in a trenchcoat - that he presumably hadn't taken off even once during the last months, just to make that clear - with a range of facial expressions reaching from 'frown' over 'confused frown' to 'forced smile because I don't get that reference but everyone else is laughing'.  
  
Weighing the odds, Sam noticed that they were long. Really fucking long.  
  
He felt his expectations drop even lower as he reconsidered the whole situation. They had exactly one chance to get through this alive, smartened up, and most importantly, not handcuffed; and there was nothing Sam could possibly do to enhance their chances.  
  
Oh, God. This was going to turn out worse than he had thought.  
  
Upon entering the building through the main entrance, Sam had immediately walked over to the morgue, and now they found themselves face to face with a man who was warily eyeing them. Stopping dead in his tracks, knowing that they wouldn't be able to pass just like that, he reached out to hold Cas back who had been about to simply push past the stranger.  
  
\- "And you are?"  
  
\- "Excuse us, we're-..."  
  
Before he could finish that sentence, reaching into the inside of his jacket to retrieve his FBI ID, Cas suddenly raised his voice, startling him.  
  
\- "My name is Castiel, I am an angel of the Lord. This is Sam Winchester, my friend. We are here to investigate the corpses that have been torn apart by a werewolf."  
  
Adrenaline began to pump through Sam's veins when Cas said those things out loud, with a straight face at that; and trying to easily brush it off, he kicked his friend's leg in order to make him shut up but the only response he got was a quiet grunt, accompanied by a confused glance.  
  
_"Don't worry,"_ Dean had said, _"I'm sure he must've gotten better at this by now,"_ he had said.  
  
Fuck you, Dean.  
  
And he started to realize why his brother had ascribed Cas to Sam instead of taking him along to the scene of the crime.  
  
Words weren't enough to express the deep hate he felt for Dean at this moment.  
  
They loved Cas with all their heart, they really did; and he was an important member of their team that they wouldn't wanna miss and all, but during investigations, especially with people, the angel was more than just a burden - he was a freaking handicap, to put it mildly.  
  
\- "Excuse my partner. He likes to... _be creative_ _sometimes,"_ he apologized, sickly sweet smile playing on his lips as he tried to do the best version of his puppy eyes that he could manage at that moment.  
  
Of course, it was him who had to pull their asses out of the fire again.  
  
Or try to, at least.  
  
There was no way this man would let them pass just like that.  
  
\- "Agent Hartle and Karsh, FBI."  
  
Sam flashed the doctor his ID, relieved to see that Cas was quick to copy his actions. He had improved on _that_ at least.  
  
\- "Since when do they have mentally unstable people at the FBI?" the guy asked, once both men had stowed their passes away again, meeting Sam with a questioning look.  
  
\- "Karsh isn't a mental case. He just has an active imagination. But he's a brilliant agent."  
  
He wasn't sure if he'd ever confronted anyone with a lie this shameless and obvious.  
  
If they actually got out of this somehow, he would make sure that Dean regretted the decision to basically _hitch_ Cas to Sam more than anything else.  
  
\- "I'd like to talk to your boss, if you don't mind."  
  
\- "Of course, sir."  
  
Having swiftly fetched the small card from his pocket, he handed it over to the man that had already retrieved his own phone and was now reaching out to accept the piece of cardboard.  
  
While the blonde doctor was busy - _distracted_ \- typing in the phone number to dial their superior, Sam took the opportunity to affront Cas, trying to somehow wordlessly make clear that he should just stay quiet from now on.  
  
\- "I'm sorry, I must've...messed something up," the man, oddly nervous, made the hunter turn his attention away from Castiel again, and the first thing he noticed was that the doctor hadn't said a single thing between putting the phone up to his ear and now.  
  
The hate he was currently feeling for Castiel and Dean suddenly devolved upon Bobby as well.  
  
\- "Alright, no problem. We got all the time."  
  
No, they didn't.  
  
Sam felt like he was about to freak out, setting eyes on Cas who still looked like he was going to take up his angel speech again; and the man starting to type in the number again really didn't help the panic that was boiling up inside of him.  
  
At least Castiel was keeping his mouth shut for once.  
  
\- "Are you sure this is the right number?"  
  
Why couldn't _everyone_ just keep their mouth shut for once, though?  
  
\- "Quite sure, yes. I suppose there must be something wrong with the connection. Wait, let me try to reach him."  
  
\- "Alright, do that. I'm really sorry but I can't let you through without being sure of your probity. Safety risk and all."  
  
\- "Don't worry, it's no big deal, really. We're used to this kind of stuff."  
  
Right when he pulled his phone out from his suit pocket, however, there was a loud bang behind him that made him spin around, highly alert.  
  
That was when another question was raised: Who the hell had blown the whistle on them.  
  
No matter who had done it, it was Castiel's fault.  
  
And Sam really didn't know if he wanted to punch Cas in the face or just shove him towards the policemen that were currently approaching them, slowly; and although they hadn't pulled their guns just yet, he could see that they were more than ready to. And they definitely _would_ raise their weapons if the two of them didn't get out of there fast.  
  
Carefully, he reached out to lightly pull at the sleeve of Castiel's trenchcoat, eyes still sternly set on the officers, trying to somehow draw his attention; and the split second he saw the angel turn to look at him from the corner of his eye, Sam whispered a single word that would lead to the worst and most exhausting lam they had had in months.  
  
\- "Run."  
  
And so they did. Or Sam did, therefore. Cas, on the other hand, appeared to be eager to get his head shot off - well, _he_ would at least survive getting pierced by a bullet, unlike Sam who really wasn't in the mood to land in a hospital and be put in prison a week later.  
  
They were lucky that there was a second entry nearby, a back way that, fortunately, wasn't locked, as Sam noticed when he yanked it open and leaped down the few steps, Castiel close behind - and the police upon their heels.  
  
And they were persistent, more adamant than Sam had thought was even possible, because even after fifteen minutes of mindlessly taking turns, disappearing into crowds, jumping over walls and fences, going through red lights and almost getting run over in the process, they were _still being followed._  
  
Sam's lungs were burning from the cold air he was rapidly breathing in already, his legs hurt and he was sure he had about five splinters in his mere right hand; and there were still people aiming guns at the back of his head, dammit!  
  
Was a lunatic in a trenchcoat posing as an FBI agent really that much of an issue?!  
  
Making a mental note to never mix with people together with Cas ever again, he hurdled another low iron gate, about to cross the small lawn ahead. The sound that his shirt made when it got caught on the fence and tore was unnerving, to say the least; and now Castiel didn't only owe him an apology and a free punch in the face, but also a new button-down.  
  
At least he was still--... The hunter almost tripped when he cast a glance over his shoulder, only to notice that the policemen were still there, about 100 feet behind but at least _still there_ because _there_ was the exact thing that Castiel _wasn't_.  
  
If Sam was him, oh boy, he would stay away from the brothers for the next few _decades_ unless he wanted to get his ass kicked.  
  
The hate that he felt, and the things that he wanted to do to Cas at that very moment, made him genuinely reconsider every single time that he had said something along the lines of him not being a bad guy.  
  
Having crossed the garden, he took a sharp left turn and found himself in front of a white house, now quickly dashing for the next dark alley that crossed his sight.  
  
Panting heavily, with his body coated in disgustingly cold sweat, his hands covered in slivers and his clothes torn, he leaned against the wall behind him and tilted his head back while closing his eyes, trying to get his breathing back under control.  
  
\- "Sam."  
  
He didn't even open his eyes when Castiel, having seemingly appeared out of nowhere - which was probably even the case; him and his stupid angel zapping -, raised his voice.  
  
\- "I told you that lying won't work."  
  
Clenching his fists, Sam forced his eyes open and cast the angel a deadly glance out of the corner of his eye.  
  
\- "...Do me a favor, Cas. Just one."  
  
\- "What is it?"  
  
\- " _Shut_ the _fuck_ up. _Forever_."


	2. i know my soul's freezing hell's hot for good reason

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean can't help it.  
> Cas is being Cas.
> 
> Chapter title: The Judge - twenty one pilots

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Destiel warning*

\- "Cas."  
  
Castiel turned around to face the hunter, clothes torn and singed, forehead covered in sweat, hair a single mess, cuts and slashes all over his hands and face.  
  
Dean's gaze was set on the angel when Cas opened his mouth and raised his hoarse voice, brows furrowed.  
  
\- "Yes, Dean?"  
  
\- "You're fucking hot right now", he breathed, still gaping, and Castiel's frown deepened.  
  
\- "I just emerged from hell, Dean. Of course, I'm radiating heat."  
  
While he was starting to wonder what exactly it was that he had expected from Cas, the distant look on his face was replaced by a vacant stare before he let out a desperate sigh and turned away from his friend, bending down to grab his bag from where he had deposited it on the ground.  
  
\- "...Forget it. How was hell?"


	3. a public meltdown, petulant but irreverent

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's almost Christmas, and Cas discovers some demons.
> 
> Chapter title: Sunshine Riptide - Fall Out Boy  
> title taken literally.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Our newest and also one of the weirdest ideas we got so far.

\- "Dean."  
  
Generously ignoring the pissed off glance that Sam cast him when Castiel addressed Dean only, the older hunter turned around to look at Cas who had stopped dead in his tracks.  
  
\- "Something wrong?"  
  
\- "These machines...contain demons."  
  
Mindlessly crossing the aisle of the Christmas fair, Castiel approached the patio heater that had been set up in the middle of the street due to the cold weather, while the frown on his face deepened.  
  
Sam didn't even know what to say about Cas's sudden weird interest in a radiator; and even Dean needed a few seconds to recollect before he managed to raise his voice again, doubtfully looking at Cas, hoping that the angel was simply taking another - terrible - shot at sarcasm and humor.  
  
\- "You-...demons. In there", he repeated, slowly as if trying to make sure that he hadn't misunderstood the angel, warily eyeing his friend.  
  
\- "Exactly."  
  
And at this very moment, Dean realized that Cas was actually being serious about what he had said.  
  
\- "Dude, those are fucking _heaters_."  
  
\- "You don't understand, Dean. I can sense the demons. This is hellfire in its purest form."  
  
\- "Cas, don't put your hand..-"  
  
Studying the mushroom heater with focused eyes, Castiel laid a bare hand on the burning hot surface while exploratorily tilting his head to the side, and Dean couldn't help but cringe at the sound that rang out when the angel's skin connected to the heater.  
  
Looking around, hopeful that nobody was paying them any attention - because honestly, it wouldn't be the first time that someone called the police on them just 'cause Cas was acting like a freaking lunatic -, he rushed forward to close his hand around the angel's upper arm and roughly pull him back.  
  
\- "The people think you're _insane_ , Cas. Just for once, stay _low_ , man, _please_."  
  
\- "I can't see any people looking at us."  
  
\- "But they _will_ look if you keep grabbing that shit heater over there."  
  
\- "Annihilating it is essential in order to free the demons."  
  
\- "Goddammit, Cas, how many liquor stores have you had this time?"  
  
\- "None", Castiel gave back after a short delay, brows furrowed again, apparently unsure of Dean's motivation to ask that particular question.  
  
\- "Then why the hell do you keep saying this bullshit?"  
  
While Dean and Cas were audibly discussing the heater matter, Sam turned around and took a few steps away from them, shaking his head in blank despair at the childishness both men were currently displaying. At some point, when Castiel raised his voice over average volume, saying something about how he could easily send the demons back within a few seconds if they 'were only released from their confinement', drawing some pedestrians' attention, Sam started to awkwardly look around, intently scanning his surroundings in an attempt to pretend not to know his companions.  
  
\- "Can we move on now or would you like to stare at this heater for another two hours?", Dean snarled, once he seemingly had had enough of Castiel's manner of debating, voice soaked in sarcasm as he made a move to get going again, apparently rather sure that he had smoothly and finally wrapped this up.  
  
But of course, Castiel wouldn't apprehend the sarcastic, pissed off tune in the hunter's voice, solely focusing on the direct meaning of the words that had been said, perceiving them on the factual level only.  
  
\- "I would indeed prefer to stay."  
  
\- "Oh, _come on,_ Cas! You can't be serious!"  
  
\- "I don't know how or why you are still doubting my sobriety on this matter."  
  
\- "So you wanna wait for these little shits to jump out of this heater like a bunch of suicidal monkeys so you can send 'em back to hell."  
  
\- "Of course not," Cas gave back, frowning, looking at Dean as if he had just said the most erroneous thing he could have possibly come up with.  
  
\- "We must release them ourselves, to send them back. Before they hurt someone."  
  
\- "Cas, no. You won't break the fucking heater."  
  
\- "Why not?"  
  
\- "Because...- You know what. Nevermind. You just...do your stuff with that thing; Sam and I will be off working on the case if you don't mind."  
  
\- "I don't. Do whatever you need to do. I will handle this."  
  
\- "You will not break this thing with your bare fucking hands, Cas."  
  
\- "I can't seem to-"  
  
\- "Trust me, just don't."  
  
\- "But-"  
  
\- "No. You won't. Don't you fucking dare. Now, c'mon, Sammy. Let's check if these girls over there got some viable information for us."  
  
Sam couldn't even get himself to complain about the way Dean downright ordered him to follow, completely thrown off by Castiel's weird idea, and so he wordlessly trailed his brother, hoping that Cas wouldn't make any trouble while they were gone investigating.  
  
After about ten minutes, though, when they had just finished talking to a vendor - or Sam had, at least, as Dean had been busy hitting up a young woman while tossing five dollars out of the window to buy a bag of freshly baked doughnuts -, a loud clattering sound cut through the silence, followed by a high-pitched scream and some panicked shouts, startling the two men.  
  
They stood frozen for a split second, exchanging a wary glance, before they stormed off simultaneously, making for the apparent source of the sound.  
  
Rounding a corner, they found themselves back at where they had left Cas before, and Sam immediately proceeded to bury his face in his cold hands, deep down hoping to somehow suffocate himself by accident.  
  
Dean didn't even dare to open his eyes at first, and when he eventually did, he wished that he hadn't.  
  
Both brothers realized that leaving a mentally defective angel alone with a patio heater in the middle of a crowded Christmas fair on a snowy winter day was something that they should never even _consider_ doing _ever_ again.  
  
They had made a horrible mistake. And horrible wasn't even enough to describe how bad it actually was.  
  
Castiel was standing there, frowning, some barely noticeable burn holes in his coat and shirt. And of course, it wasn't only that he had actually broken the heater into pieces with his bare hands, no. He had his hand on the head of a short, brown-haired man, fingers tightly closed around the citizen's skull, looking like he was about to crush it any second now.  
  
Dean had been about to dash forward in an attempt to get Cas away from the man, whoever he was, when a bright light emerged from the stranger's eyes and mouth, making the hunter stop dead in his tracks.  
  
Behind Castiel, a cloud of dark smoke began to rise up from a blond guy's mouth, and without even having to take a look, the angel quickly spun around in a smooth fashion, forcing the black fume back into the man, pressing his hand right to his face, and honestly, Dean didn't have a single clue how Cas had managed to notice that there had been an escaping demon right behind him.  
  
The man's face lit up brightly before he, too, collapsed, leaving Castiel standing still between two motionless bodies lying on the snow-covered pavement. The angel lowered his hand without casting any of the unconscious men another glance, and turned his head to face Dean and Sam who were still stood in the middle of the street, eyes inertly set on Cas.  
  
\- "My apologies, Dean. I saw a tremendous threat in those demons, so I couldn't just leave without sending them back", he spoke, striding toward the hunters with an apologetic look on his face.  
  
\- "Cas, you...what the hell did you do."  
  
The people around were more than terrified, Dean noticed upon casting a swift glance around. Most of them had either taken off in panic or were frozen in place, completely overwhelmed and horrified by the events that had just taken place right in front of their eyes. Dean really couldn't blame them, though. Those poor citizens had literally just witnessed an angel of the Lord in a trenchcoat exorcize two demons he had freed from an ordinary heater two minutes ago, all that in the middle of a freaking Christmas fair.  
  
If he hadn't been so fucked up already, he would've probably been low-key staggered as well.  
  
\- "Guys, maybe we should...get the hell out of here", Sam chimed in now, subtly nodding towards a woman who seemed to be making a call, audibly crying pieces of information into the phone she was clasping in her shaking hands, looking kind of out of her mind.  
  
911 call, obviously.  
  
\- "Definitely,"he gave back within a second.  
  
And so Dean grabbed Cas by the sleeve and pulled him away from the throng of people that had gathered around the still-out-cold men on the ground - who, right then, turned out to be an amazing distraction for the three of them to quickly slip away and disappear into the crowd.  
  
  
  
\- "Okay, so but the real question is...", Dean raised his voice, once they were far enough away to be able to walk openly again without having to worry about getting caught, "Could we use Lucifer as a heater like this?"  
  
Of course, he noticed the angry glance that Sam cast him at these words, and hell, he could definitely see where his brother was coming from, having been possessed by Lucifer himself and having spent some time in the cage with him and all, but Dean simply couldn't help it, now that his curiosity had been sparked.  
  
The few minutes they had spent in silence, solely focusing on staying hidden from eyes that might recognize the maniac that had just caused two basically innocent men to black out by putting a hand to their head, had been way too much time for Dean to get lost in his thoughts and weave some messed up theories.  
  
\- "I mean, like, jam him into one and put him up somewhere, for the common good and all that shit."  
  
\- "Shouldn't we rather think about _why_ and _how_ those demons got in there in the first place?", the taller man breathed, obviously exhausted and not in the mood to keep up with his brother's shit for much longer.  
  
Oh no, Sam's nerdiness - and the stick he had up his ass - would absolutely _not_ keep Dean from getting an answer to his significant question, and so of course, he cut in before Cas could even open his mouth to respond.  
  
\- " _Priorities_ , Sammy. So, Cas? What about it?", he urged, grinning smugly at the way Sam rolled his eyes, seemingly accepting his defeat in the fight over Castiel's attention.  
  
The angel turned to look at him, head tilted, brows furrowed, - for once, that look was justified, though, considering how oddly excited and childishly gleeful Dean had gotten while talking about storing the _devil himself_ in a _radiator_ -, and he seemed to be actually _contemplating_ the idea.  
  
Well, at least until the thoughtful expression on his face was replaced by an utter and honest-to-goshen 'Are you dense?' look, and Dean immediately lowered his gaze, now intensely studying the pavement below while quietly mumbling "Alright, alright, no need to gimme that face, man".  
  
Despite the annoyance that was plastered on Castiel's face, however, he still raised his voice to give a proper answer.  
  
\- "This idea is ridiculous", he made sure to rub some salt into the wound before he continued, "Lucifer's power would destroy the heating unit within split seconds."  
  
\- "Alright, okay, I get that. _Buuuuuut_! What if we got a huge one? Like...real _huge_?", Dean thought out loud, eyes raised again and lit up in excitement.  
  
\- "Define 'real huge'."  
  
\- "Y'know, like...real fucking huge. Like a skyscraper or something. A real fucking Lucifer-operated...jumbo heater!"  
  
\- "I...", Cas started, but went quiet soon after, appearing to be at a loss of words. Castiel. The all-knowing angel of the Lord. Didn't know what to say.  
  
\- "I don't know, Dean", he uttered, questioningly looking at the hunter, perceptibly uncertain.  
  
\- "Well, then..."  
  
Dean cast Sam and Castiel a suggestive glance, a both delighted and somewhat wicked grin playing on his lips as he spoke.  
  
\- "Let's get satan a new fucking cage!"


	4. the tear in my heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Not only can Castiel heal the human body he’s possessing, but he has magical clothes mending abilities as well.”  
> Sorry, Misha but...no. Not on my watch.
> 
> Cas' trenchcoat is torn and so he tries to fix it because how hard can that be, right?
> 
> Chapter title: Tear In My Heart - twenty one pilots

Castiel had been sitting on the motel room's bed like this for almost two hours when Dean burst in, done and exhausted from spending half of the day talking to semi-sane witnesses and acquaintances of the victim that had been taken apart by a yet-unknown creature.  
  
When he noticed Cas out of the corner of his eye, he was slightly surprised, but didn't really care otherwise. He had realized that the angel did what he wanted to do anyway after some time, and so there was really no use in arguing over the whole thing again.  
  
Only when he took off his jacket and carelessly tossed it onto the nearby table, his eyes caught on to the way Castiel was holding his left arm close to his chest, studying it with a frown.  
  
The worry that had bloomed up inside the hunter - Castiel's posture resembled Sam's when he was hurt but trying to cover it up, and Cas was also one to play his injuries down most of the time; _of course was worried_ \- was replaced by confusion the second he became aware of the mess of light brown threads connecting the sleeve of Castiel's beloved trenchcoat to a thin needle that the angel was holding in his right hand.  
  
\- "Care to explain, Cas?", he grumbled half-heartedly - in any other situation, he would've been way more irritated by Castiel seemingly attempting to fix his clothes -, and grunted when he realized that the angel had, apparently, claimed his bed.  
  
Not in the mood to discuss the whole personal-space-and-belongings matter again, he let himself drop down on Sam's bed instead, sinking into the soft mattress. His brother had informed him he'd be gone for at least another hour before, so, for once, Dean didn't really have to worry about anything.  
  
Exhaling, he enjoyed the way his aching legs seemed to sigh in relief when he stretched out and let his eyes shut.  
  
\- "I'm fixing my coat", Cas answered, a little delayed.  
  
\- "I can see that."  
  
\- "Then why do you ask?"  
  
His eyes snapped open again and he turned his head to observe Castiel who had a scowl on his face, though it wasn't directed at Dean but at his own sleeve. Dean sat up and shifted until he could properly lean back against the uncomfortable headboard.  
  
\- "'Cause you can, you know...heal cancer. And revive people."  
  
\- "How does that have anything to do with my apparel?"  
  
\- "You...can't you just fix your goddamn coat with a touch of your magic hand or something?"  
  
Castiel looked up from his arm then, and his ice blue eyes met Dean's who began to feel slightly, _just slightly_ , uncomfortable under the blank gaze. However, the eye contact only lasted about a second before Cas focused back on his work, causing the hunter to exhale in relief. Staring contests with the angel were a thing he hated having - both because Castiel never seemed to realize it even _was_ a contest, and because he always lost when Cas' frown turned threateningly frightening at the latest. His gaze was simply horrifying.  
  
\- "I'm afraid clothes mending surpasses my capabilities."  
  
\- "Oh, getting me and Sam outta hell is easy-peasy but _clothes mending_ isn't in your angel repertoire?"  
  
\- "It appears so."  
  
After suffering through another five minutes of watching Castiel fail miserably, Dean had finally had it. Audibly breathing out, he got up from the bed and stalked over to where Cas was sitting, hunched over his own arm.  
  
\- "C'mon, let's get this thing fixed up. I might just turn blind if I watch you try for another minute."  
  
Snatching the needle from Castiel's hand, he noticed that it was covered in blood - just like the angel's hand. Sighing, he put it down on the bed instead before he went to get a small towel from the bathroom.  
  
Upon returning, he wordlessly pressed it into Cas' hand and picked up the needle again.  
  
\- "Why don't you take the damn thing off to fix it, though? It's one thing to try without knowing a damn _thing_ about sewing, but _one-handedly_? Seriously?", he mumbled while attempting to somehow save what was left to save about the thread Castiel had _somehow_ managed to get entangled with the fabric.  
  
\- "I was under the impression that this is simple. Sam informed me-"  
  
\- "Well, but _Sam_ spent half of his life _mending my skin_. And he probably sewed dresses for him and his tea parties back in college."  
  
\- "...Oh."  
  
\- "Whatever. Where the hell did you get this stuff anyway?", Dean asked, trying to build up a conversation while he was busy tieing a knot so the thread wouldn't just slip out again - the left-overs of Castiel's attempt had sadly been of no use at all so that he, for better or for worse, was forced to start all over again.  
  
\- "From a nearby store."  
  
\- "Wait, you actually _paid_ for this?"  
  
The hunter raised his eyebrow in disbelief and cast Castiel a short questioning glance before he went back to fiddling with the thread.  
  
\- "Should I have done that?"  
  
Dean let out a sigh, wondering what exactly it was that he had expected from the angel.  
  
\- "Y'know what, nevermind", he breathed and proceeded to focus back on the task at hand.  
  
Five minutes in, however, Dean began to realize that fixing a coat was more different to stitching a wound than he had originally thought, and Cas bitching about literally _anything_ surely wasn't making the whole thing any better.  
  
\- "Dean, you just punctured my skin."  
  
\- "And I punctured mine, so stop whining. What are you, a little girl?... _Dammit_ , how's this so _fucking difficult_?!"  
  
Castiel kept quiet for a few minutes after Dean's outburst before he started to complain about the way the hunter yanked at his arm, and Dean was on the verge of running the needle into the angel's biceps for the sole sake of making him shut up. At the last second, he decided not to, and grabbed Castiel's forearm a little harder instead.  
  
\- "Dean, your grip is rather unpleasant."  
  
\- "Oh, _say what._ Now _shut up_ and hand me the thread."  
  
  
  
It was an hour later when Sam, jaded and drained, returned to the motel room and wearily walked in on his brother and best friend intently frowning at Castiel's arm, their hands blood-coated. He dumped his jacket down and stood still in order to silently observe the two. About to raise his voice, and ask the "What?" out loud that had been on his mind ever since he had entered the room, he made a move to step closer but Dean's impatient voice made him reconsider his plan.  
  
\- "Honestly, Cas, _one more word_ about your friggin' _punctured skin_ and I swear, I'll stick this needle in your eye _multiple times_ ; and now give me your _goddamn arm back_."  
  
\- "Dean, I feel like you are only making it worse by attempting to minimize the distances between the separate stitches."  
  
\- "Not my fault if it keeps tangling up!... Ugh, this is _disgusting_."  
  
\- "I told you to wash off the blood."  
  
\- "Shut up, _smartass_."  
  
\- "Dean, you-"  
  
\- "Get your hands off of me!"  
  
\- "I'm just trying to assist you."  
  
\- "Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't know assisting was equivalent to _impaling my hand_! Now let go, you-...!"  
  
He stood silent, watching, for another two minutes before he shuffled over to the unoccupied bed, going unnoticed by Dean and Cas who were still arguing at what appeared to be the top of their voices.  
  
Figuring that trying to suffocate himself to sleep was by far the most reasonable thing he could possibly do, Sam wordlessly collapsed into bed, burying his head in the pillows.


	5. i got your love letters, corrected the grammar and sent them back

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean is trying again.  
> Cas is being Cas. But not completely.
> 
> Chapter title: The Music Or The Misery - Fall Out Boy  
> Title not taken literally AT ALL. Do not expect to read about Castiel's reaction to love letters, because that's not what you will get.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Destiel warning, again*
> 
> Aaaaand another one!  
> I'm really in a flow at the moment, and I got a massive amount of both ideas and motivation to work with.  
> Also, shout-out to Kilian aka Lucifer himself who keeps providing new weird concepts and ideas!
> 
> Enjoy!

\- "This guy's driving me nuts!", he exclaimed loudly, drawing a few people's attention but they were soon to focus back on their drinks when they realized nothing special was going on.  
  
Ruffling his dark hair with his right hand, Dean sighed before taking another sip of his beer.  
  
\- "So what?", the woman next to him asked, raising an eyebrow at him. When his attempts at chatting her up had failed miserably about an hour ago - _"you're not here to pick some girl up, honey. Admit it, you're just a twenty-something crossed in love, looking for a distraction"_ -, they had awkwardly started to make conversation, and Dean had been careful at first - but at some point, when he'd had a few drinks more than originally intended, the Cas-talk had begun.  
  
That was what Sam called it, anyway, although Dean would rather die - again - than admit to his brother that he did, indeed, have a thing for his best angel buddy.  
  
\- " _So what_?", he repeated, out of his mind, wide-eyed, staring at her as if she had just said the most far-fetched thing he'd ever heard. " _SO WHAT_?!"  
  
He only realized that he'd raised his voice and risen from his chair when she grabbed his arm and forced him to sit down again.  
  
\- "Cas is...I mean. He doesn't like me back. I...how do you even hit on an _angel_?!"  
  
\- "Look, if you call him an angel already" - Dean held back a frustrated laugh - "then why don't you go for the 'did it hurt when you fell from heaven' line. I know it's horrible but hey, it's a start."  
  
\- "This line never works. And it won't work on _Cas_ of all people."  
  
\- "It's not supposed to _work_ , it's supposed to steer the conversation in the right direction so you can get the guy 'round. There's basically only yes and no for him to pick from. He can turn you down, or go for it."  
  
\- "And that's where you're wrong. There's not only yes and no. There's yes and no and _'I didn't fall from heaven, Dean'_ ", he scowled, lowering his voice and putting on the deepest frown he could master in an attempt to imitate Castiel the best he could.  
  
\- "Not my problem. I'm here to have fun, not to give some random guy advice 'cause he's crushing on his mate", she said, shrugging, before she stood up and left, leaving a confused and drunk Dean Winchester alone at the small table.

* * *

  
  
 - "Hey, Cas", he said the next day when they were waiting for Sam to finish packing up his stuff inside the motel room they had been supposed to leave over an hour ago.  
  
\- "Dean", was the only response he got, a short acknowledgment accompanied by a nod and a questioning gaze.  
  
He cleared his throat and let his eyes dart around for a second, unsure of where to look, before he decided to blankly stare past Castiel who didn't even seem to notice the way Dean awkwardly shifted around.  
  
\- "Did it...", he cleared his throat again, "Did it hurt when you fell from heaven?"  
  
If he hadn't died so many times already, he would definitely be wishing for it now.  
  
Attempting to force a seductive grin - and fighting the urge to slam his face into the next brick wall -, he met Castiel's piercing blue eyes, noticing that the angel was frowning.  
  
Cas had furrowed his brows and tilted his head to the side in this adorable way that made a coy, genuine smile tug at Dean's lips in the blink of an eye. God, Cas had really messed him up.  
  
\- "I appreciate the attempted rapprochement, Dean", - Dean's eyes were popping out of his head as giddiness gave way for outrageous embarrassment - "but I do hope you realize that calling an angel 'fallen' is considered a serious insult in heaven."  
  
While he stood, at a loss of words and gaping like a fish, a reluctant smile flashed over Castiel's face as he locked eyes with Sam who was walking towards them, carrying their two duffel bags.  
  
\- "He said it, Sam."  
  
And Sam burst into laughter, dropping both bags in an attempt to keep his balance as he almost fell over from how hard he was guffawing.  
  
Bewildered, Dean let his eyes dart from Castiel to Sam and back, still not knowing what to say, but nonetheless, he found himself wishing he had either drunk enough alcohol to lapse into a coma yesterday, or kept a gun in his jacket to shoot them both down right now.  
  
Holy shit.  
  
Dean Winchester had just been pranked by an angel.  
  
No, not by an angel, but by _Castiel_ , of all people.

  
  
And even 15 minutes later, when they were in the Impala, with Sam behind the wheel, - Castiel having left again already -, Dean simply couldn't believe it. Disbelievingly gazing at the empty street ahead, he could still feel the warmth that had spread over his cheeks and neck before.  
  
He shook his head to clear his mind before he coughed slightly in an attempt to draw his brother's attention.  
  
\- "But...the thing that Cas said...", he started, waiting until Sam quietly hummed in acknowledgment - not without stifling another chuckle, much to Dean's indignation - before he went on.  
  
\- "...was that a yes or a no?"  
  
Sam almost crashed the Impala into a tree.


	6. dirty laundry looks good on you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Having failed miserably™ at washing his coat, Castiel decides to ask for Sam's help instead. He's not pleased, given the circumstances.
> 
> Chapter title: Dirty Laundry - All Time Low

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> again, *implied destiel but it's really freakin' mild so stop complaining y'all*

\- "Sam."  
  
The addressed man rolled around, still half-asleep, instinctively trying to somehow get away from Castiel's mercilessly loud voice.  
  
\- " _Sam_."  
  
Slowly waking from his uneasy sleep, blinking rapidly, the hunter sat up and turned towards the source of the urging voice, only to find the angel's blue eyes a little too close for his liking, making him shift backward in order to gain a certain distance to Castiel.  
  
\- "You are awake", Cas stated, gaze sternly set on Sam who began to feel somewhat uncomfortable.  
  
\- "Yeah...What's up, Cas?...Something wrong?"  
  
Worried, he made a move to reach for the gun below his pillow, ready to leave immediately if needed. However, the response that he got from the angel, made him regret even opening his eyes.  
  
\- "I attempted to wash my coat."  
  
Sam needed a few seconds to let the words sink in before he let out an admittedly exaggerated sigh and let his face drop into his hands, feeling close to losing his mind already.  
  
\- "Why the hell are you telling me that. And...why are you telling me at..." he quickly checked the time and groaned when he noticed it was _way_ too early for this, "2 in the morning?"  
  
He cast Dean a short glance, and upon seeing his older brother fast asleep he realized that he'd apparently been right in his assumption concerning Dean's sleep pattern - the hunter presumably hadn't slept well in at least a few weeks. Otherwise, he would've been up and awake, like, three times by now.  
  
And although that would've been great, as Dean tended to do _way_ better at putting up with Castiel's bullshit - _more profound bond_ and all -, Sam was glad that his brother seemed to be finally catching up on sleep, quietly snoring on the bed in the corner.  
  
\- "It didn't work."  
  
\- "You...what did you do?"  
  
\- "The lid of the washing machine wouldn't close."  
  
Shaking his head in the typical Sam kind of way, he opened his mouth in order to say something, but closed it again, at a complete loss of words. Something was definitely wrong here; and seeing Castiel - the socially incapable angel with more than just one wide emotional deficit - standing in front of his bed in the middle of the night, talking about failing to do his _own laundry_ , only cemented Sam's worries concerning the well-being of the washing machine, its surroundings, and the sleep he would be getting tonight.  
  
He closed his eyes and took a few focused breaths in an attempt to calm his nerves and sort his thoughts again before he raised his voice, slightly below average volume so that he wouldn't disturb Dean. Thinking about it, his brother would probably not even wake up if Sam yelled from the top of his lungs, judging by the way he had blissfully slept through Castiel's audible attempts to raise the younger hunter out of his sleep.  
  
\- "...I repeat: What. Did you do."  
  
\- "I put the coat inside as one is supposed to. It appears to me the machine is defective."  
  
\- "Then...wash the thing with your hands?", he suggested, arching an eyebrow. He didn't trust this. At all. And he just wanted to go back to sleep if he was being honest.  
  
\- "How?"  
  
\- "You-...Listen, you just... _take it off, put it in warm water, add some detergent_ and...wash it. It's not that hard. Alright?"  
  
\- "I can't take it off."  
  
Sam could swear he was going to go insane tonight.  
  
\- "You...you can't take it off", he repeated, deadpan.  
  
\- "Yes."

His patience was running thin.  
  
\- "Why the hell can't you take it off."  
  
Sam rubbed his hands over his face and exhaled, trying to keep his cool.  
  
\- "It's a heavenly weapon. Lucifer wore such a coat, before he fell. And Moses did, too."

Why was he here again?  
  
\- "Moses?"  
  
\- "Yes."

Maybe if he closed his eyes now, and pretended Castiel wasn't there...  
  
\- "Why would Moses-...Okay, you know what, nevermind. I don't even wanna know. Look, Cas, we'll just...take care of this tomorrow, alright? Now will you...please just let me sleep?"  
  
\- " _Sam_ ", Cas said, and he spoke the name in such a _deafeningly loud_ and _strident_ way that Sam's ears began to metaphorically scream in protest as he jumped at the piercing voice. However, before he could even open his mouth and hiss an insult - and maybe a threat, considering the fact that he still wasn't keen on letting Cas wake Dean up - at the angel, the rustling of sheets drew his attention and he turned to look over.  
  
His brother was stirring in his sleep, slowly blinking his green eyes before he set them on Sam and Castiel, seemingly beginning to realize what was currently taking place on the other side of the room. The younger hunter quickly scowled at the angel, casting a huffy glance to make clear just _how_ annoyed he was with Castiel, but he kept quiet otherwise, apprehensively anticipating what was going to come.  
  
\- "For _fuck's sake_ , Cas...", Dean grumbled, voice low and raspy, noticeably drugged with sleep - and definitely pissed off by the fact that an antisocial pain-in-the-ass angel had just woken him from his well-deserved slumber. "Just go to sleep."  
  
\- "Dean, angels don't-"  
  
\- " _Cas_."  
  
The stern, cold gaze on Dean's face was merciless, and Sam watched in awe how Castiel went silent all of a sudden, looking at the older hunter through wavering blue puppy-dog eyes before he, apparently surrendering, and accepting Dean's order without another word, reluctantly backed up and dropped onto the couch, curling up. His brother was a saint. There was no other way to explain this.  
  
It was about 20 minutes later - 20 minutes in which Sam hadn't managed to fall back asleep; his thoughts had kept him awake - when the couch squeaked softly and quiet footsteps caught his attention. They died down as a rustling sound rang out, and Sam could swear he heard Dean grunt softly, mumbling something he couldn't possibly comprehend.  
  
Them and their freaking "more profound bond", dammit.  
  
Sam couldn't help but smile.


	7. i see what's mine and take it - finders keepers, losers weepers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean discovers Cas' trenchcoat, discharged on the bed but Cas is not around.  
> Dean is being Dean. Sam is being Sam. Cas is being Cas. That's it. That's the plot.
> 
> Chapter title: Emperor's New Clothes - Panic! at the Disco

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really don't know how or why everything I've been writing lately ends up in a late-night-talk-at-the-motel scene and Dean sleeping and mild Destiel but hell if I care.  
> Basically 85% plot of the summary up there and 15% Dean and Cas discussing personal space shit and all.
> 
> (Another short shout-out to Kilian. You're a genius for coming up with stuff like this)
> 
> Enough of the talking tho.  
> Enjoy!

He didn't know when or how it had happened, but Castiel had taken his trenchcoat off and dumped it on Dean's bed. Or at least that was what it seemed like. Dean had no clue what exactly had taken place in the motel room during the admittedly short three hours that they'd been gone, but it was making him feel oddly nervous.  
  
Cas himself was nowhere to be seen, and if Dean hadn't at some point realized that the angel apparently loved to vanish without a trace or leaving a note or saying a _damn thing_ as literally _anyone else_ would, he would've probably gone crazy by now.  
  
After he'd spent - _or wasted_ \- literal _hours_ of his horrendous life worrying about Cas and his whereabouts, he'd begun to grow more than just tired of constantly running after the angel in an attempt to keep him from getting in trouble or unsettling clueless citizens - which appeared to be one of Castiel's favorite activities - , up to the point where he'd started to not even care anymore.  
  
He knew that Cas could take care of himself just fine - although admittedly, he had needed a few months to finally accept that fact; him and his overprotective big brother instinct - and even though it freaked him out a little, seeing Castiel's coat, the one he never took off, abandoned and carelessly thrown onto the bed, right next to their duffels and notes, he forced himself to stay calm. Sighing, he walked over instead, in order to look for some clues on where the angel might have gone off to.  
  
It was dark outside, and drizzling; and the small raindrops were softly pattering against the tightly shut window's dirty glass - the only one in the room, Dean realized when he took his time to quickly look around in the room for the first time since they'd arrived here earlier the day. Sam was currently occupying the bathroom, and Dean had just taken his jacket off and picked the coat up, now studying it closely, trying to figure out what exactly it was that Cas loved so much about the thing. And trying to figure out what exactly it was that had made Cas leave it behind.  
  
Holding it up with two fingers, he looked the coat over, and when he saw that it was neither wet, nor torn or otherwise damaged, he blinked, confused. It had started to rain about one and a half hours ago, meaning that Cas must have been gone for quite some time now. Frowning, Dean cast a glance around to see if he'd maybe triggered Castiel's _trenchcoat sense_ \- _"Technically, it's an overcoat."_ \- by touching it, but nothing happened.  
  
The angel had told them - or Sam, as Dean had been asleep when they'd had that conversation - that the coat was of great importance to him, although he hadn't explained in what way exactly.  
  
With Dean's trenchcoat-angel-bond theory proven wrong, he spontaneously gave up on trying to figure out what it was that connected Castiel to his favorite piece of clothing and focused back on the task at hand instead - making use of this onetime situation.  
  
\- "Hey, Sammy?", he yelled impatiently, eager to tell his brother about his discovery.  
  
\- "Yeah?", came the delayed response, muffled by the closed bathroom door and almost drowned out by the sound of running water.  
  
\- "What do you think, how mad will Cas get if I hide his trenchcoat?"  
  
The words seemed to be enough to excite Sam's curiosity, as he only needed a few seconds to turn off the tap and duck his head out of the ajar bathroom door, eyebrows raised, his interest obviously sparked.  
  
\- "He took the thing off?", he asked in disbelief once he'd laid eyes on the coat, and proceeded to slowly walk over like a wary cat approaching a sleeping dog, brows furrowed in confusion, though his eyes were gleaming with idle curiosity.  
  
\- "Yeah. Damn thing was just lying here."  
  
Dean started to turn the coat in his hands, studying it in the same fashion they always examined clothes at murder scenes.  
  
\- "You...You think he's okay?"  
  
\- "It's _Cas_ , Sam. Course he's okay. But for real, man, what if we hid it?"  
  
The look that Sam gave him was enough of an answer, but Dean just rolled his eyes and raised his hands in a defensive manner.  
  
\- "Okay, okay, calm down, Sammy. I'll just put it on for a sec. Maybe I'll turn angel or something."  
  
His brother stepped back and crossed his arms in front of his chest, putting on his best bitch face, apparently not fond of Dean's idea, but still, he made no move to protest in any way. The older man stifled a grin. He made sure to make a mental note to mock Sam about being a freaking _slut_ for knowledge and intelligence later, but for now, he would be focusing on the overcoat only.  
  
He let his gaze dart around in the room for a second as if making sure that Cas _definitely_ wasn't anywhere near, drawing an eye roll and a sigh from Sam, although the taller hunter still didn't raise his voice just yet.  
  
Dean shoved his right arm through the coat's sleeve until he could spread his finger again, and reached out to grab the second half of it that was dangling from his shoulders, swiftly shrugging it on.  
  
As soon as he turned around, trenchcoat uncomfortably tight around his chest and shoulders but otherwise fine, Sam raised his eyebrows at him, noticeably irritated by the unfamiliar appearance of his brother, still managing to hold back the grin that was starting to tug at his lips.  
  
But then, when Dean turned up the collar and put on the most ridiculous face he could master, pursing his lips and spreading his arms with his palms facing the ceiling - presenting himself in the most laughable way possible, to put it briefly - Sam finally cracked.  
  
Bursting into laughter, he had to sit down on the bed in order not to fall over, and Dean began to grin smugly, obviously proud of his success in being funny once more.  
  
The brothers' amusement wasn't long-lasting, though, because just when Dean made a move to check his look in the bathroom mirror, a high-pitched sound made him drop to his knees and Sam curl up on himself, hands covering his ears.  
  
\- " _Son of a bitch_ , Cas!" he yelled, squinching his eyes shut, attempting to get up from the floor, but the sound grew louder with every second.  
  
\- "Right, so putting on your trenchcoat wasn't my best move but that's no reason to-", he tried to soothe the angel's apparent anger, about to shrug off the piece of clothing in a proposal of peace when the single window cracked, and before Dean could even start to worry, it burst.  
  
\- " _CAS_!" He couldn't even hear his own voice anymore, ears aching with the deafening sound, but he screamed anyway, somewhat hopeful that Castiel was going to have mercy on him. God, he'd thought that _he_ was protective of his _Impala_ but _this_ was a whole new level of possessiveness, to hell with this angel!  
  
It took Cas another ten seconds to finally get his shit together again, and the high pitched sound died down, the walls slowly ceased quaking and both brothers began to relax a little again. Sam didn't move from where he was curled up on his bed, eyes still tightly shut but Dean could tell that there was definitely a bitch face approaching.  
  
The older hunter had gotten up from the ground with a groan, forcefully tossed the trenchcoat aside and was now looking around through aching, green eyes. Despite his vision being slightly blurred, he was still able to make out the countless bits of broken glass covering the dark floor, plus the painting that had fallen off during Castiel's apparent breakdown. He'd been about to walk over to at least fix _that_ when suddenly, the door burst open with a loud bang followed by an unnerving creaking sound, and Dean had pulled his gun within split seconds, pointing it at the intruder in black while barking out something unintelligible that he himself didn't even understand. He was disorientated, okay?!  
  
His eyes needed a few seconds to finally focus completely but when they did, he almost let his weapon fall to the floor. In front of him wasn't some vampire or a weird lunatic - well, he wasn't sure about the latter if he was being honest - but Castiel. He'd expected him, really, but...not like this. Not Castiel with a slightly oversized leather jacket embracing his broad shoulders. His leather jacket. _His. Dean's._  
  
\- "Cas. What the hell are you doing with my jacket", he growled threateningly, having looked for the damn thing literally _everywhere_ a few hours ago.  
  
\- "I have been told that a _varying look_ would make it easier to mix with people", Castiel sighed, walking over to Dean's bed to shrug off the jacket and dump it on top of the covers.  
  
\- "Turns out that clothing doesn't seem to influence humans as much as I thought it would. A disappointing experiment."  
  
Casting a glance to the side, Dean noticed that Sam still hadn't moved a lot, his breathing even and audible. The older hunter started to realize that his brother had actually been right when he'd said that they basically passed Cas and his problems and strange thoughts to each other all the time - until one of them managed to somehow get out of the whole situation, that is. Dean seriously couldn't remember the last time they'd listened to Castiel's bullshit _together_ as they always tried to foist him off on each other.  
  
" _I'm busy_ "s there, " _I don't have time_ "s here, as well as tons of " _Ask Sam, he's the smart one_ "s and " _Dean knows more about this kind of stuff_ "s, followed by either puppy dog eyes, deadly glares, apologetic smiles or simply ignorance. But hey, it worked most of the time, until Cas either put on his - probably unintentional - puppy look himself, or one of the brothers gave in all by himself. And guess what, the one who yielded first was Dean, in most cases.  
  
\- "Oh, so you grab my stuff without asking and go on some kind of... _hustling trip_ without saying a damn friggin' word but when _I_ touch _your_ shit, _you_ throw a tantrum?!", Dean spat, angrily staring at the angel who had gathered up his coat again.  
  
\- "I apologize, Dean. Sam probably told you about the importance of this overcoat to me."  
  
\- "If you don't want people to take it, don't let it lie around in the open like that, Cas, goddammit! You almost made me go deaf!"  
  
Castiel actually had the brains to look somewhat bashful then, lowering his gaze to the floor in a thoughtful manner before he locked eyes with Dean again.  
  
\- "It won't happen again, Dean. My apologies", he spoke, tilting his head slightly to the right, an expression of contemplation on his face as he seemed to store the information away in his mind.  
  
Castiel had collected a lot of info over all the years they'd spent together, and he always made sure to save all kinds of knowledge he could gather, although some things definitely stuck to him better than others, considering how he was still struggling with actually keeping his _angel talks_ to _himself_ and not spreading the word to any human - or animal - being they crossed paths with during hunts.  
  
\- "Alright, man, don't sweat it. Just next time... y'know, just don't do that again", Dean sighed, exhausted, head still throbbing, and sat down on his bed to yank his shoes off.  
  
\- "Of course."  
  
\- "I'll catch up on some sleep if you don't mind."  
  
\- "Why would I mind?"  
  
\- "I don't know, 'cause you're a douche maybe?"  
  
Silence settled down for some time in which the hunter laid down and closed his eyes, facing away from Castiel, just wanting to finally go to sleep. After about five minutes, however, when he turned around and found himself looking right at Cas' knee, he buried his face in his pillow with a grunt.  
  
\- "You're still here. Why are you still here", he groaned, twisting his head so that he could peer at the angel through one eye before he reconsidered his question. "You know what, just... don't answer that, okay? Put the damn chair back" He mindlessly waved his hand around to emphasize his words, "and come back tomorrow because _I_ need my four hours and _you_ will not 'watch over me', we've had this conversation before."  
  
Cas opened his mouth, about to protest, but Dean effectively cut him off with a cold glance that appeared to unnerve his friend so much that, after all, he did at some point decide to leave before the hunter reached his maximum enragedness. A tired Dean was a dangerous Dean, that much was for certain.  
  
As soon as Cas had zapped and gone, Dean turned over again, pulling the blanket up to his chin, closing his eyes; and while he was trying to finally fall asleep, he pretended not to notice the soft flutter of wings that rang out ten minutes later.


	8. you can set yourself on fire but you're never gonna burn, you're never gonna learn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A car happens to drive down the street that Castiel is trying to cross.
> 
> Chapter title: Crazy = Genius - Panic! at the Disco (shortened)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally, this was supposed to be chapter 9 but I couldn't get myself to finish 8 just yet so...here ya go!

\- "Cas, don't--!", Dean started, speeding up in an attempt to reach the angel before it was too late but of course, Castiel, once again, wasn't listening to him.  
  
When they'd approached the street, it had been untrafficked without a single car in sight and so Dean hadn't exactly worried about it. Now, however, he regretted letting Castiel lead the way - he should really start to keep the angel on a short leash instead of letting him wander off mindlessly. Of course, Cas knew how to defend and care for himself, and Dean had no doubts that he'd be able to get to the other side of the city without the hunter watching out for him, but since things like socializing and road safety wasn't exactly a strength of his, Dean wouldn't exactly want to test that assertion. He trusted Cas but he surely didn't trust him with humans.  
  
Right now wasn't about social capabilities, though, because although _Dean_ had set eyes on the car that was currently approaching at flank speed the second it had basically appeared out of nowhere, now proceeding to race down the street, he couldn't possibly say the same for Castiel. The angel simply continued to unwaveringly move forward at a steady pace, and so Dean screamed out for him once more, worry evident in his voice.  
  
\- "Cas, look out!" The words seemed to make Castiel snap out of his apparent daydreaming and he stopped dead in his tracks, making a move to turn around and cast Dean one of his infamous questioning glances. However, in the middle of the motion, he suddenly froze, eyes sternly set on the black T-Roc that was coming closer at breakneck speed. Its tires squealed in protest as the driver slammed on the brakes and yanked his wheel around in an attempt to somehow not collide with the angel that was currently blocking the street.  
  
It didn't work.  
  
Dean cringed in sympathy when a scream rang out, followed by the familiar sound of a body connecting to the hood of a car that the hunter knew all too well - and once he'd recovered from the slight shock, he immediately started to run, dashing down the sidewalk to get to Castiel as fast as possible. The angel was laying on the asphalt, blood coating the side of his head, but the thing that worried Dean wasn't the many injuries but the fact that Cas _wasn't fucking moving._  
  
Just when he crouched down beside the motionless body, the car's driver's door opened and shut again, the noise sounding horribly loud in the relatively quiet area.  
  
\- "Holy shit! Do you know first aid?! Fuck, fuck, shit... I'm gonna call 911, hold on..---!"  
  
Dean looked up at the man for a second, trying to make sense of his incomprehensible rambling - the poor guy was practically _shaking_ , livid with shock - before he decided to ignore him and focus on Cas instead. Carefully pressing two fingers to the angel's neck to feel for a pulse, he was relieved to notice that Castiel's heart was beating steadily. He was insanely confused. Honestly, it would've irritated - and disappointed - the shit out of him if he'd lost his friend right there. An angel, dead because he'd been caught by a car - yeah, no.  
  
The thing that he didn't get, however, was why the hell Cas wasn't moving a goddamn muscle.  
  
\- "Cas? Hey man, you hear me?", he urged and violently shook the angel by the shoulders, earning a horrified squeal from the man who had dropped to his knees next to him.  
  
\- "Stop it! You'll make it worse! Uh... Lateral recumbent position! I think I still know that one, lemme...-"  
  
The brunette weakly shoved Dean aside to make him back up and create enough space to reposition Castiel's body - the hunter didn't budge but the man seemed content with himself anyway - but the exact second his hands made contact with the angel's shoulder to roll him over, Cas' eyes snapped open, ocean blue meeting moss green. While Dean exhaled in relief, the stranger continued his attempt to move Castiel's body around - Dean didn't even know what the stable side position looked like but _this_ was definitely _more than wrong_ -, causing the angel to frown at the man.  
  
\- "What are you doing?", he raised his voice, head cocked to the side in a questioning fashion, startling the guy out of his excessive concentration. He toppled over, ungainly landing on his ass with only his hands on the ground to keep his head from hitting the black asphalt.  
  
\- "You-...I hit you, I'm so sorry, I..."  
  
\- "Yes, I realized. It was... highly unpleasant", Cas spoke, getting to his feet in a swift motion to run a hand through his hair and smooth down his coat, and Dean was quick to follow his lead. Deciding that it was best to leave the distraught stranger alone with his thoughts rather than getting involved with both ambulance and police, he dug up some money - that _definitely_ wasn't going to be enough to make up for the Cas-shaped damage his car had suffered but hey, it was the best he could do - that he pressed into the man's hand before he grabbed the angel by the tie, mercilessly pulling him along.  
  
\- "Don't do that ever again", he growled once they'd gotten out of reach, and turned a little to cast Castiel a threatening glance. "That guy's shell-shocked, dude."  
  
\- "Dean, you have left people in conditions way more devastating. Some of them suffered significant psychological damage."  
  
\- "Yeah, but that's 'cause there's _always_ people running across monsters when we're working a case. There's no way past that. _You_ , on the other hand. You got hit by a _car_ and got up like it's _nothing_. You...you can't just do that, okay! That's friggin' _weird_!"  
  
Castiel furrowed his brows and opened his mouth to respond before he, apparently, change his mind, his features softening as he shrugged. When he passed Dean to take the lead again, the hunter could already see the next empty street ahead, still and quiet.  
  
Maybe he should just get used to this.


	9. i'm king of the clouds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I don't fight anymore. I watch the Dean."
> 
> Chapter Title: King Of The Clouds - Panic! at the Disco

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, I'm back! From a pretty long break, actually, but now that my friend and I meet more often again, there'll hopefully be many more chapters soon. Won't promise anything, though.  
> Another shout-out to Kilian who managed to inspire me for the first time in WEEKS.
> 
> I really enjoyed writing this so I hope you'll enjoy reading this? I don't even know anymore.  
> Also, don't mind the mild Sabriel in this, I've just been insanely obsessed with them in the past weeks.

Bees. Bees had always been somewhat fascinating to Castiel. It was just that, before he had adopted Sam's hallucinations, he hadn't realized. Now, he was back to normal, but he still remembered the few days - or weeks? Maybe he didn't remember them as clearly as he'd thought. And once he'd returned from purgatory, and once he'd broken the connection to Naomi - or well, once _Dean_ had broken it - he hadn't felt such a strong urge to watch the bees anymore.  
  
However, now that he had discovered a particularly cute bee that must've somehow snuck into the bunker without any of them noticing, the thought crossed his mind that maybe, his love for insects and nature back then hadn't entirely been a result of him going crazy - it had simply reinforced it. That, or he hadn't, in fact, gone back to normal completely, and had kept some of crazy-him's quirks.  
  
Deciding that it was useless to waste any more time on that train of thought while there was a bee buzzing down the hallways, he got up from where he'd crouched down and followed the small insect through the bunker. Maybe it would find the way out all by itself - or the way to the door at least. He remembered basically everything from before purgatory, which meant that all the bee facts had been carved into his mind as well; but no matter how hard he dug around in his memories, he couldn't come up with an answer to the question if bees remembered the way they flew.  
  
When the honey bee had been flying for ten minutes without moving somewhere in particular, Castiel gave up on his theory and decided to get the insect out by himself then. It hadn't bumped into any walls along the way, at least, and it didn't look like it had gotten hurt otherwise so he was sure that releasing it was a good thing to do, before the bee got itself killed down here.  
  
Moving a single finger, he held it in place and carefully started walking towards the door of the bunker, always keeping an eye on the little thing frantically moving its wings without getting anywhere, and it almost hurt the angel to see the poor insect suffer but he was sure that he was doing the right thing - until a six foot four hunter burst through the closest door, panting and looking around like the devil himself was after him.  
  
\- "Cas...Cas, have you seen a bee?", he wheezed and ran a hand through his messy hair. Castiel questioningly tilted his head to the side with a frown on his face as he looked over to the bee he'd been about to free from this prison. Why had Sam been running for minutes - judging by the way his chest was heaving - for the sole purpose of finding this bee? Was it of importance to the hunter? Maybe he loved bees as much as Castiel did?  
  
\- "Yes, I was about to bring it outside. Is it yours?"  
  
\- "Mine? What...- _No_! Cas, that's _Dean_!"  
  
Sam stomped closer immediately and caught the bee with his gigantic hands, signaling Cas to let go of the insect. As soon as the angel lowered his hand with another confused head tilt, the soft buzzing filled the room once more as the bee started to move again.  
  
\- "What happened?", he demanded to know once his mind had processed the information the tall hunter had just leaked, suddenly less puzzled but instead, worried. He would never understand how the brothers managed to get in trouble so often. There wasn't a single week without any hunting slip-ups, cooking incidents or failing spellwork - as Sam liked to test the spells and mixtures he found in all the books in the library during his free time.  
  
\- "I don't know, I was... researching and then Gabriel popped in and... he gave me this book and dared me to try one of the spells and now--"  
  
\- "And you listened to him", Castiel assumed, his frown deepening and the look on his face close to being murderous as he strode over, aiming for the most threatening glare he could master. However, even when he jutted his chin forward and got on his tiptoes, he still wasn't completely on eye level with the tall hunter. Judging by the careful step back that Sam took, though, Castiel's attempt at intimidating him seemed to have succeeded nonetheless.  
  
\- "I told you not to listen to my brother. Because I _knew_ something like this would happen. Were you asleep during all his pranks?!", he practically growled, finally backing up a little to heave an exaggerated sigh. "What did you do to him?"  
  
\- "Gabe told me it's gonna wear off in a few hours", Sam mumbled, nervously shuffling his feet. "We don't need an antidote or anything. And he's gonna be okay, Gabe promised. He's past all this killing for fun thing..-"  
  
\- "What was he doing in the hallways?"  
  
\- "Who, Gabe? Or--"  
  
\- " _Dean_."  
  
\- "Oh. I...I lost him." The hand he raised to awkwardly rub his neck was a clear indication of how uncomfortable he was with Castiel practically interrogating him - but at the same time, it was a clear indication of how _distracted_ he was because as soon as he performed the gesture, the buzzing sound got louder. Not only because it wasn't muffled by Sam's giant paws anymore but also because the bee proceeded to fly right past Castiel and out of the room at high speed, leaving no time for the angel to react.  
  
\- "Sam!", he cried, casting the hunter another worried glance before he hurried to go after Dean, Sam close behind.  
  
They needed almost twenty minutes to find the hunter-turned-bee again after he - it? - had taken off because as soon as it had left through the door, it had just about _vanished_ and left the men without any tracks to follow - not that bees left noticeable tracks in general, but there hadn't been any buzzing, for one. Which had left Castiel wondering how a bee could possibly get away so quickly. He knew that they were _fast_ but he'd been sure that they weren't _this fast_ , either. Maybe it was just the Dean showing in that bee. The hunter could run like a cheetah after all. Although the angel had always preferred thinking of his friend as a tiger rather than a cheetah. He couldn't exactly get behind Crowley's squirrel association.  
  
Sam stopping dead in his tracks right in front of him forced him to a stop and he barely managed not to bump into the tall hunter. Curiously, he took a step to the side to look past Sam, laying eyes on a very familiar archangel holding a very familiar bee in place with his index finger.  
  
\- "Heya, Samalam! And Cassie! What. A. Joy!", Gabriel announced, getting up from the couch he'd spread out on to move his finger in quick, circular motions, twirling Dean around a little.  
  
\- "Gabriel", Castiel drawled with an annoyed sigh and raised his hand, attempting to take over the control over the small bee but nothing but a few small tugs came out of it.  
  
\- "Archangel, remember?", the ex-trickster huffed with a smug grin and a wink. "Don't gimme that look, bro. I was just keeping him in place for you guys! Get over here, hot stuff," He vaguely gestured towards Sam, "I kinda need my finger, y'know. Oh, and, I'd be careful if I was you, 'cause this guy here? Ultra mad."  
  
Castiel watched with narrowed eyes how the hunter carefully walked over and closed his hands around the bee once more before Gabriel let his hand drop and flexed his fingers for a short moment. When the archangel made a move to snap in order to leave in a noticeable fashion - silent departures had never really been Gabriel's thing -, Sam shouted an almost high-pitched "Wait!" at him that actually startled Castiel. Confused, he glared at the hunter.  
  
Dean was safe, the spell was going to wear off - what else could he possibly want from Gabriel? The angel knew that the former trickster and Sam had been together for a few months now, of course he did, because although they had been careful to keep it a secret, it had been more than a little obvious to anyone in the bunker. Well, to Dean at least, who had then recruited Castiel to prove him right in his assumption, so technically, the seraph had found out about it all by himself. But still, he would've thought that, in a situation like this, with many things that still had to be taken care of, Sam would care about his bee-brother more than about--  
  
\- "What is it, Samsquatch?", Loki interrupted his thoughts with a sigh; thumb and middle finger already raised, ready to snap himself out of there any second now. Neither Sam nor Castiel seemed to catch the subtle traces of impatience and annoyance in his voice.  
  
\- "Why the hell did you give me this spell?", the hunter demanded to know, his hands twitching slightly as he tilted his head a little.  
  
\- "I think that one's pretty much all on you, Sammy. Didn't your parents teach you not to accept weird spells from tricksters? You knew something like this was gonna happen, don't act all surprised."  
  
\- "... I hate you, do you know that? At least tell us when he's gonna be back to normal!"  
  
\- "Sorry, Sammich, but _that_ you'll have to figure out by yourselves. I'll see ya later, college boy. Until then, good luck with the bee." And with that, and a suggesting wink, he was gone, leaving an angel and a hunter alone with a human-bee in the latter's hands.  
  
An uncomfortable silence settled down as even Dean stopped buzzing around for a few seconds; and Sam cleared his throat before he raised his voice, softly muttering "I say we find a jar" and making a move to turn around but Castiel reached out and grabbed his shirt to keep him from leaving.  
  
\- "Are you suggesting to keep a _bee_ , let alone a _Dean-bee_ " Sam scrunched up his nose at that word, "in a _jar_ , Sam?"  
  
\- "Uh...yeah? Why not? Something wrong with that?"  
  
\- " _Everything_ is wrong with that. Stay here, I'll be right back."  
  
And that he was, shortly after he'd gathered everything they needed to keep Dean warm and safe for the time being, and Sam raised his eyebrows at the container the angel was holding.  
  
\- "Place him inside", he ordered, and the hunter did as he was told, watching how Castiel quickly closed the lid before the bee could escape its new improvised home again - a shoebox with a few small holes punched into it, the ground covered in greenery and a few small flowers. The angel had purposefully refrained from placing sugar water in the box's corner since Dean appeared to be rather healthy and awake, and didn't seem to be in need of any sugar.  
  
He carried the box to Dean's room and placed it on the bed before he sat down right next to it, eyes trained on the container. Sam was uselessly standing in the middle of the room, dumbfounded and at a loss of words.  
  
\- "Go, I will take care of him."  
  
\- "You wanna just..sit and watch that box?"  
  
\- "Watch _Dean_. But yes."  
  
\- "Right, okay, uh...tell me when he's back."  
  
Castiel nodded.  
  
However, when he found himself with a lapful of undraped Dean two hours later, he figured that Sam was going to get that hint all by himself for once, if his brother's predatory growl was anything to go by. A tiger, by all means.


	10. i gotta move, stay in the dark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The warding sigils on Dean's ribs aren't as convenient as Cas had promised.
> 
> Chapter Title: I Gotta Go - Sunrise Avenue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd be lying if I said I was proud of and/or content with this. Uploading it anyway, maybe some of you guys out there actually enjoy it~

When that damn car had hit Dean square, he hadn't thought much of it - of course, the pain had been nearly unbearable, and rolling ten feet over the cold asphalt wasn't exactly what he'd had in mind when he'd decided to cross the street despite the red light. There hadn't been any cars around at that moment, of that he was sure, and letting the vampire he'd been following escape really hadn't been an option. And so he'd crossed the street, or _tried_ _to_ , therefore, before a small car - a Beetle or something like that; he'd been lucky it hadn't been some van or a freaking _truck_ _even_ \- had suddenly appeared out of nowhere and sent _Dean_ into nowhere instead. He remembered his head smashing into the windshield and something cracking - could've been the glass, could've been his bones, he didn't know and he didn't care - before he'd blacked out.  
  
Looking down at his own, seemingly intact, body, and moving every limb around a little, proved that the cracking sound that had made his flesh crawl had apparently been the car's front window. Besides a mild headache, he felt no pain at all, and while that should've probably made the hunter leery of the whole situation, he simply leaned back, not even questioning how he'd _possibly_ managed to escape fully unscathed.  
  
What he _did_ wonder, however, was how long he'd been out - and where Sam was. Or anyone, really. Shouldn't a doctor have annoyed him with an endless list of questions by now? Shouldn't there have been some semi-hot nurse taking notes on some clipboard? How the hell had he even gotten here in the first place?  
  
He should probably start to appreciate the silence as long as it was still lasting, and not get worked up over questions he couldn't possibly find an answer to. Maybe the world was just giving him a short break from all this crap for once. And so, instead of getting up from the bed and looking for a familiar face around, he closed his eyes and enjoyed the quiet while he waited for Sam, or a doctor, or anyone at all.  
  
What he didn't expect was hearing a rough voice he hadn't heard in _days_.  
  
\- "Hello, Dean."  
  
After getting over the half heart attack that Castiel had caused, Dean took a deep breath to calm his unsteadily beating heart before he set eyes on the angel, brows furrowed in surprised confusion.  
  
\- "Cas?", he asked, moving to sit up and lean against the headboard, "How the hell did you...did Sam call you?"  
  
\- "No. I came here as soon as I saw."  
  
\- "Saw what?"  
  
\- "You."  
  
\- "Right. So, what the hell does that mean, now?"  
  
Castiel breathed out, the hint of an eye roll visible on his face as he strode over to stand closer to the hunter. His gazing blue eyes met Dean's when he spoke up, gesturing vaguely at the man on the bed.  
  
\- "You broke one of your ribs. For about...ten seconds, heaven and hell, _everyone_ could see you. It was like a bright red dot looming right in front of my eyes. You are lucky I wasn't occupied at the moment, or you'd be dead by now", he downright growled, and Dean couldn't possibly tell why the angel was as pissed off as he currently was.  
  
  
  
_Angels were screaming so loudly that some dogs on earth started to howl in pain, a higher-rank angel was yelling at them in an attempt to make them calm down so he could arrange a patrol of soldiers to capture Dean Winchester while he was still visible to them. However, those soldiers were busy running around like scared chickens, screaming and shouting and so disgustingly excited that the commanding angel had to slap a few of them to make them calm down._  
  
_Hell was equally... busy. Except for the fact that down there, demons didn't only scream and run around in a rush. They were so giddy about the upcoming haul that they literally snapped and stabbed each other to death, squealing from the top of their non-existent lungs; the tortured souls watching with raised eyebrows. It was the first time they felt anything else than pain since they'd been cast to hell._  
  
  
  
The taller man raised an eyebrow and testingly patted his own chest, feeling no pain at all.  
  
\- "So you fixed me, then?"  
  
\- "Yes. I had to. Heaven was already assembling a patrol to smite you. I don't know about the demons, but I suppose they were equally eager to get to you."  
  
\- "Uh...thank you, I guess. So...where's Sam?"  
  
\- "A motel in Arizona."  
  
Dean's raised eyebrow dropped at that, his expression closer to one of Sam's A-grade bitchfaces than ever.  
  
\- "Are you..are you kidding me? You sent him to friggin' _Arizona_? From _Iowa_?!"  
  
\- "It was necessary, Dean. Your location wasn't retrievable anymore, but I can promise you that there has most likely been a minor war between demons and angels where you've been hit by that car."  
  
  
  
_Both patrols arrived at the same time, silently staring at each other for a few seconds before a demon made the first move. Shouting, with their blades raised, the legions charged at each other while a few members of each side scattered to search the place in order to find Dean Winchester or anything that would lead them to his current whereabouts._  
  
_Both demons and angels were rushing over to the car that was still stood in the middle of the street, pulling and yanking at the screaming, traumatized man inside, eager to get all the information they could out of him while their allies were still slaughtering their enemies - and each other, in the heat of the moment._  
  
  
  
\- "Well, then get him back here! Those dicks can't see me anymore, we're good to go, right?", he huffed, making a move to get up from the bed while Cas was watching him like a hawk.  
  
\- "Technically, yes."  
  
Dean stopped dead at that, one bare foot on the floor and the other still tangled in the sheets, to look up at his friend through narrowed eyes as he turned his head a little.  
  
\- "And practically?"  
  
\- "I...had enough power left to send you both away and follow you but I'm afraid I need time to... _recharge_ until I can take you back."  
  
The hunter blinked a few times before he raised his voice again.  
  
\- "What do you mean, ' _take me back_ '?", he spoke, calmly; when he suddenly seemed to throw his composure out of the window, "I--where the fuck _are we_ , Cas?!"  
  
\- "The Athom Memorial Hospital in Massachusetts."  
  
\- "You're kidding, right."  
  
Deep inside, he knew that Cas wasn't.  
  
\- "Why would I-"  
  
\- "We're stuck in freaking _Massachusetts_?!"  
  
\- "Dean, I told you, I will get you and Sam back as soon as I--" He stopped when Dean raised a single finger to make him shut up.  
  
\- "No, shut it. I mean... why...why Massachusetts, dude?! Why not...I don't know, _Kansas_? Or _Ohio_? New _York_? _Idaho_? Why the fuck would you choose _Massachusetts_?! I'm not... I mean, there's a _reason_ why we were here like, _two times_ in our _whole life_ , y'know? There's nothing here. _Nothing_ , not even _monsters_. Hell, I bet nobody even paid _attention_ to their angel...demon...radar thing! _God, Cas, what the_ **_fuck_**...!"  
  
\- "I...right. My apologies, Dean. It won't happen again."  
  
  
_The only person who got out of the disaster alive was the traumatized man that had taken off into the woods when the angels and demons had ripped each other apart like a bunch haywire cats, tripping and falling over blades, blood, and dead bodies._


	11. you filled up my glass with promises (that could never last)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The inability to recognize sarcasm has always been Castiel's problem.
> 
> Chapter Title: Talk - Kodaline

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted for the autocomplete project (https://archiveofourown.org/works/17784566/chapters/42132485#workskin) of my friend and me. Decided to upload it to this collection anyway.

Dean was sitting in the war room of the bunker with his feet propped up on the table and a gun in his hand, that he was currently cleaning. There were no cases at the moment, Sam had gone out with Jack some time ago, and Dean hadn't even bothered to look for Castiel in the first place as the angel was probably doing _something_ Dean didn't exactly want to know about. He'd stopped trying to figure out what his friend was up to when they had free time rather soon, when things had gotten a little too questionable after he'd found Jack and Cas in the kitchen shoving a whole spoon of cinnamon into their mouth.  
  
And so he was leaning back, taking care of his personal favorite weapons and not thinking about anything except his task, because for once there was _nothing_ to worry about.  
  
However, just when he'd finished cleaning the revolver and was about to get up to saunter over to his room, Castiel came striding towards him, chin jutted forwards, a smile on his lips, and some object in his hands that the hunter couldn't exactly identify from so far away, with the angel's hands clasping it almost violently. Suspicious of what was going to come, Dean spoke his greetings, carefully avoiding the question about Castiel's previous whereabouts. But of course, Cas just _had_ to inform him unasked.  
  
\- "Hello, Dean", he greeted, gaze unwavering but soft - which was kind of unsettling if Dean was being honest - before his eyes darted down to the object in his hands for a split second. "I discovered this movie in the library and was wondering if you would like to watch it with me tomorrow evening?"  
  
He held out the DVD case for Dean to grab, and the hunter hesitated for a moment, scared that he might just discover another piece of porn, before he decided to just play along for the time being. He reached out and took the case from Cas, turning it in his hands and looking at pictures and the way-too-long summary with narrowed eyes, until he finally found the title.  
  
\- "A...Cas, where the hell did you find a documentation about friggin' _bees_?", he demanded to know, staring at his friend with his brows furrowed and a slightly distrusting expression on his face; and Cas tilted his head to the side in response.  
  
\- "As I said; I found it in the library in the nearest town."  
  
There were too many questions in Dean's head at that moment, reaching from ' _When did you_ even _leave?'_ over _'What were you doing in a library?_ ' to _'What the fuck?'_ but he decided to push them to the back of his mind, not really sure if he really wanted the answers to his questions.  
  
\- "And lemme guess, you took it without asking."  
  
\- "I bought it."  
  
\- "You...you _what_?" Groaning, he ruffled his own hair with his free hand. "Cas, you don't _buy_ from the library, you _borrow_ stuff!"  
  
\- "Oh", the angel hummed, looking down at his own shoes for a second before he set eyes on Dean again. "So? What do you think?"  
  
The hunter had still been examining the case when Cas posed that question - the DVD was actually in there, so at least his friend hadn't been scammed -, but now he raised his eyes from the movie summary to meet Castiel's.  
  
\- "Sure, Cas, it's not like I got a thousand better things to do", he huffed, sarcasm clear in his voice but he couldn't help but add another snarky comment, accompanied by an exaggerated wink. "Get me french fries, a drink, and some snacks and I'll be there. And y'know, maybe some gas while you're at it, Baby's almost out of juice." And with that, he patted Castiel's shoulder while passing him, making his way to his own room.  
  
  
__  
  
  
The next day, he spent almost entirely in his room - or bed, to be exact -, listening to music, eating some pie from a few days ago that he'd found, and skimming through a bunch of magazines he'd dug up from his drawers. He'd only left his room early for breakfast and a coffee, when Sam had called for lunch, and one time in the afternoon because Jack had been overly eager to show him a disgustingly golden lucky cat that Castiel had scraped up somewhere.  
  
Now, though, he was back on his comfortable mattress, leaning against the headboard while absent-mindedly flipping through his phone in search of an album he'd only recently added to his playlist. He'd just found it in the endless ocean of songs and was about to close his eyes and lean back when there was a knock on the door, and for a second he contemplated turning up the volume and blocking everything else out. However, when a second knock sounded on the wooden door, the hunter swung his legs over the edge of the bed and got to his feet with an annoyed groan.  
  
Sighing, Dean unlocked the door - and idly wondered why he had even locked it in the first place, considering that he opened up to literally anyone who knocked anyway... But then again, every single occupant of the bunker tended to burst in without a warning, and announcements were an actual rarity; and also, he'd rather be on the safe side before things got out of hand. Which they definitely would at some point.  
  
Letting the door swing open, he sighed to make clear just _how_ much the disturbance bugged him, but the look of annoyance vanished from his face when he found himself standing a little too close to piercing blue eyes.  
  
\- "Hello, Dean", Castiel greeted with a smile and a small nod. Only when the angel raised both his hands, and Dean laid eyes on the way-too-familiar dark brown paper bag in his friend's right, and the full canister in his left hand, did the hunter begin to understand why Cas had knocked at his door.  
  
\- "I was waiting for you", the angel informed, holding both things out for Dean to accept, and when the taller man didn't move, a frown began to form on Castiel's face. "Are you alright, Dean?", he asked, worriedly tilting his head to the side while looking Dean up and down, scanning his body for any visible injuries or other noticeable problems.  
  
\- "Yeah, no, I...I'm good, Cas, I'm just..."  
  
Thinking about it now, he was quite sure that he should've expected this outcome.  
  
\- "Good. So, are you coming?"  
  
Dean turned to glance back at his bed over his shoulder before he faced Castiel again, about to tell him that no, he wasn't coming, because everything he'd said the day before had been one big joke to mess with Cas, and because he couldn't imagine anything worse right now than watching a three hour documentation on bees with this angel-of-the-Lord of a best friend.  
  
However, when he locked eyes with said angel who was still holding the canister and freshly bought food out for him to take, with the most hopeful unintentional puppy eyes that Dean had ever seen plastered on his smiling face, the hunter found himself unable to hold back the "Sure, Cas" that left his mouth.


End file.
